


caught in the dark with a sound in my heart, hiding alone down on the floor

by blafard



Series: you'll always have my shoulder when you cry, I'll never let go, never say goodbye [2]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Baz is bad at asking for help, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Canon, bc hes a good bf even tho he thinks he is not, but Simon is there to help anyways
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-29 01:19:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19819573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blafard/pseuds/blafard
Summary: Simon was dead to the world beside him, his hair a mess of blond curls, his shirt forgotten on the floor, the window open to let in warm air. Baz wished he would be able to wake his boyfriend, to explain to him what’s going on and to get comfort but he was too proud to seek comfort so openly and instead of sucking it up and allowing himself to feel vulnerable, he slipped out of bed and disappeared into the dark hall of Simon’s flat.





	caught in the dark with a sound in my heart, hiding alone down on the floor

**Author's Note:**

> title from "monsters" by seafret  
> I'd recommend listening to the song while reading!

Baz Pitch was not someone that _needed_ help. Or asked for it.

He was _fine._

So what if he didn’t sleep through the whole night? So what if he had dark circles around his eyes, that gave his black hair a run for their money? So what if he trashed awake in the middle of the night sometimes, his skin slick with sweat and his hair plastered against his forehead while his boyfriend battled his own nightmares right next to him?

He didn’t have to _burden_ someone else with his issues.

He wouldn’t.

Baz knew how to deal with it himself. It was nobody’s business but his own and yet–

He just wanted to sleep for an _entire_ night. Just _once_. Without any monsters appearing behind his eyelids or a dark coffin trapping his body, while he wasted away.

The bed sheets were soaked through with sweat and he would feel bad about it, if he would be able to bring up the energy to do so. His clothes were an uncomfortable weight on his pale body and he craved a cold shower to chase away the sweat and lingering feelings of unease.

Simon was dead to the world beside him, his hair a mess of blond curls, his shirt forgotten on the floor, the window open to let in warm air. Baz wished he would be able to wake his boyfriend, to explain to him what’s going on and to get comfort but he was too _proud_ to seek comfort so openly and instead of sucking it up and allowing himself to feel vulnerable, he slipped out of bed and disappeared into the dark hall of Simon’s flat.

He knew the way into the kitchen by heart, even in the dark, so he didn’t bother to switch on the light as he put some water into a kettle and then placed it on the stove to boil.

He leaned against the counter, rubbed his hands over his eyes to get rid of his tiredness (to no avail) and then grasped the edge of the counter behind him in a tight grip.

His knuckles turned white, with how much force he gripped the counter, but he couldn’t really bring himself to care.

The kettle whistled softly next to him and he knew he should grab a cup and a tea bag but he was so _tired_.

He slipped down until he sat on the floor, the ground cold against his bare skin, and put his head into his hands. Baz just wanted to rest a few seconds, just to close his eyes and maybe–

“Baz!”

His head snapped up at a speed that made his spine pop uncomfortably. Through bleary eyes he met Simon’s concerned gaze and immediately knew he fucked up.

“What’s going on?” his speech was slurred, his voice quiet even to his own ears. Baz put his hands on the ground and tried to push himself up, but failed when his tired limbs gave out underneath him so he stayed put and watched as his boyfriend took the kettle off the stove and went to fetch mugs.

“Baz? I’ll help you stand up now, ok?” the blond asked after a few more seconds, a deep furrow between his brows. His hands were unbearably soft when he helped Baz up, as if he was afraid Baz would shatter at any moment.

He wasn’t _weak_.

“Not made out of… glass, Snow,” he replied, even though he tried to sound annoyed, there was an edge to his voice that showed his uncertainty. He certainly felt like he could shatter at any moment.

Simon was quick in arranging Baz onto the couch, so that he’s lying down and covered with a light blanket. Then he disappeared from Baz’ line of sight again, only to reappear with two mugs in his hands and a more awake look in his blue eyes.

The tea was discarded onto the small coffee table and then he let his eyes wander of his boyfriend’s body, in search of– of something. But _what?_

Baz lifted his legs, made room for Simon to sit and then snuggled into the couch, when Simon placed his legs over his lap and rubbed his hands over his bare legs beneath the blanket.

“You fell asleep while making tea, Baz,” Simon began. There was a tightness to his words and if Baz wouldn’t be so _damn_ tried he could question what it means. “You could have burned yourself with the water, love, do you understand that?”

“Had a nightmare… wanted to wake up with tea…,” it wasn’t an excuse, not really, but he wanted Simon to know anyways. Because sometimes, especially when he was exhausted beyond belief, he allowed himself to be _vulnerable_. (Only a little bit though.)

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

Baz wanted to say, _because you deserve the sleep; because I don’t want to be a burden; because I feel weak when I’m asking for help and I know it’s pathetic but that’s just who I am; because you have your own nightmares to battle and it’s unfair of me to expect you to shoulder mine and yours at the same time._

In the end he didn’t say any of those things, instead he opted to stay silent and closed his eyes to save himself the concerned expression Simon would surely wear.

When he finally drifted off to sleep seconds, minutes or even hours later, Simon had his arms wrapped around his body and his head tucked against his neck, a whispered promise to talk about this in the morning the last thing he registered.

The rest of the night was free of any horrors.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so soft for them taking care of each other :')  
> find me on tumblr under [j-morevu](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/j-morevu)
> 
> don't forget comments/kudos ♡


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